The Final Scene
by thedementorskiss
Summary: Is this the end? Will Sweeney Todd finally get revenge on the vermin of London? See what's running through his head during the 'Final Scene' of the Sweeney Todd movie. Conains HUGE movie spoilers, read at own risk. You have been warned.


**This is the final scene of Sweeney Todd the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. **

**I did not write the plot, it is the story line with actual lyrics and dialogue from the movie. All I did was add their feelings and fill in the gaps. It's kind of shown from Sweeney's point of view. **** All song lyrics are italicized.**

**WARNING: CONTAIN'S HUGE SPOILERS. IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE AND DON'T WANT THE ENDING RUINED, DO NOT READ!!!!!!!**

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"Brought you up some breakfast, dear." Mrs. Lovett walked briskly into Mr. Todd's shop. Sweeney Todd stood, not knowing what to say. Thank you,

Perhaps? Leave me alone… said another voice in his head. He never quite knew his feelings towards Mrs. Lovett, who was now an overworked widow. Lustful

towards him, Mrs. Lovett, even when her husband Albert was alive, always fancied him. He half regretted coming back to London, to Fleet Street, but he had to

know if she… if his poor Lucy, was there. How he longed for her, dreamed of her. His mind was working in slow motion.

He could still feel Mrs. Lovett's presence behind him. He didn't both turning around.

"Mr. T, can I ask you a question?" Sweeney stayed still. He didn't feel like talking much, his throat was dry, his mind somewhere else.

"What?" He managed to croak out slowly. Mrs. Lovett paused.

"What did your Lucy look like?" What kind of question was this? She knew perfectly well what his dear Lucy looked like! Sweeney stayed silent, not wanted to answer.

"You can't even remember, can you?" Sweeney paused. He thought a moment.

"She had yellow hair." He felt himself let off a small smile. Just remembering the radiance from his wife cleared his whole mind.

"I know it's hard, Mr. T," Sweeney's smile vanished and he felt his world crumble, "but your Lucy's gone. Life is for the alive my dear. We could have a life us two, maybe not like I dreamed, maybe not like you remember… but we could get by." He turned harshly, not knowing whether he wanted to yell, to smile, to cry… He saw Mrs. Lovett staring up at him, looking tired and innocent. He immediately felt sadness. She always loved him, even as he stood there, a raging lunatic, wanting nothing more than to slit unsuspecting gentlemen's throat. Sweeney looked into her eyes, swimming with thoughts of them together. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad? Them alone, him and Mrs. Lovett, his neighbor for five years before he got taken way. She welcomed him back home graciously, even though he was hardly what he used to be.

Crash. The door bursts open.

"Mr. Todd, they took her." Anthony pants, looking wild.

"Johanna?" He turns from an astounded Mrs. Lovett.

"They have her locked in a mad house, I've searched through the place a dozen times, it's completely impenetrable, it's a fortress." Sweeney's face lit up with delight. He looks at Mrs. Lovett who frowns.

"I've got him." He whispers to her. He then strides over to Anthony. "We've got her." He frowns as well.

"Where do all the wig makers go to obtain their hair?" Anthony looks as confused as ever. "Bedlam, they get it from the lunatics at Bedlam."

"I'm afraid I don't understand…" Foolish boy, Sweeney thinks. It's so foolproof, so brilliant.

"We'll set you up as a wig maker's apprentice. You'll go there, and you simply take her." Anthony smiles like a wild man. "Now go!" Sweeney rushes him. Anthony's gone in a blur.

"Fetch the boy." He strides past Mrs. Lovett.

"Don't you think you should leave the boy alone?" Sweeney turns and stares her dead in the eyes. She flinches and goes downstairs. Sweeney sits down and begins to write a letter to Judge Turpin. What to write, what to write. He must sound like a worried gentleman, one that wants nothing but the best for that disgusting vermin.

_Most honorable Judge Turpin - _

_I venture thus to write you this urgent note to warn you that the hot-blooded, young sailor has abducted your ward Johanna from the Institution where you, so wisely confined her but, hoping to earn you favor, I have persuaded the boy to lodge her here tonight at my tonsorial parlor in Fleet Street. If you want her again in your arms, hurry, after the night falls, she will be waiting. _

_Your obedient humble servant, Sweeney Todd._

He looks over his handiwork when Tobias opens the door. He ignores the boy for a few seconds. He then stands up and carefully folds his letter.

"Do you know where the Old Bailey is?" He asks, his heart pounding.

"Yes sir, not that I've ever been there." Such innocence, such simplicity, it made him cringe with anger.

"I want you go there and seek out Judge Turpin, repeat that."

"Go to the Old Bailey, find Judge Turpin."

"I want you to put this into his hands, only to him, understand?"

"Yes sir, and while I'm out, d'you mind if I stop by the grocers-"

"-No, you are to deliver the letter and nothing else, you're not to stop, you are not to speak, got that?"

"Yes sir." The boy stutters, stumbling backwards and scurrying away. Sweeney looks out his window, pacing back and fourth. How long until the judge gets his letter? How long until he kills the man who killed him, how long... how long...

Pacing still, he realizes how dark it's gotten. Mrs. Lovett bursts in. Sweeney whips around and looks at her. Her eyes are teary and strained. He half pities her.

"I've got him locked in the cellar, but if he escapes I fear he'll go straight to the judge." Mrs. Lovett looks worried.

"He won't escape." Sweeney looks over her expression. She did care so much about him.

"I dunno Mr. T..."

"Relax; the judge will be here soon."

He thought his revenge over when Beadle Bamford crashed through the door. Mrs. Lovett shrieked and turned around.

"S'cuse me sir, you gave me a fright!" Sweeney watches her chest rise rapidly and fall again. She must have been very freaked out over something, she was acting extremely tense.

"Not my intention, good madam, I assure you. But I am here, however, on official business. There have been some complaints about the smell from your chimney, they say at night it is something most fowl." Sweeney watches the ugly scum take out a small box of snuff. "If you don't mind-" Sniff. "-I'll need-" Sniff. "-To take a look-" Sneeze. "-at your bake house." He sneers. He looks like a revolting slug, like rotten shit on the bottom of his shoe.

"How about first you come upstairs, let me pamper you." Sweeney smiles. Beadle looks taken aback.

"As much as I do appreciate tonsure adornment, I think I should really stick to my official obligation." Beadle took a step into Mrs. Lovett's shop.

"I understand..." Sweeney says, grabbing Beadle's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. What to say, how to stall? Sweeney then takes a whiff of the little vermin. Disgusting, utterly repulsive. "If you will indulge me sir, what is that exotic aroma you have on?" Beadle sneers again.

"It's my secret; it's a touch of amber crisp."

"Might I offer you something, a _tad,_ more appropriate for a man of your stature?" Beadle thinks it over. "The ladies will greatly appreciate it sir." Beadle's face lights up. I've got him, Sweeney thinks.

"Well, you are an expert in these matters." Sweeney put his arm on Beadles hunched back and started to pull him upstairs. He then turned to Mrs. Lovett, giving her a sly smile. 'Thank you' she mouthed back at him, and hurries inside.

"How would you like to try some bay rum, perhaps?" He asks seductively.

"Oh, bay rum is very embracing." Beadle replies merely. Sweeney opens the door to his shop. "So this is your establishment?" Beadle asks, looking around. "Very dark, I must say."

"So I've been told." Sweeney says, taking his razor from the desk "Sit down sir, please." Beadle sits down. Sweeney didn't even want to waist time on this sinister man.

"Such a complete joy, for you to be here today." Sweeney looked lovingly at his razors. His heart started to race.

"Oh really, why's that?" He asked, a smug look on his face, like he already knew the answer.

"Simple, revenge..." Beadle didn't have time to contemplate the response giving before his neck was sliced open. He watched himself being drenched in his own blood, startled and flabbergasted.

"Fifteen years sir, may you die in agony." Sweeney angrily thrust his foot onto the pedal, and watched the fat lump slide backwards off the chair and onto the floor below with a heavy thud. Sweeney tossed his hat down into the hole before it snapped closed. Now to take care of that annoying lad. Sweeney ran down the stairs and met with Mrs. Lovett in the cellar. Her eyes told him something was wrong. The boy was no where to be seen.

"_Toby, where are you, love_?" Mrs. Lovett's rang out like doves, clear and safe. "Where is he?" She whispered underneath her breath. Sweeney looked around hopefully. "_Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around..._" she called again. All was quiet.

"Toby? TOBY?" Sweeney called, unable to keep his voice free of menace and anger.

"Where are you hiding?" Mrs. Lovett calls. "_Nothing gonna harm you darling... not while I'm around_..."

"Toby?"

"Oh, where could he be?" Mrs. Lovett started to sob. Sweeney wanted to comfort her. He patted her back half heartedly. Then as she looked up he stopped. He heard something upstairs.

"The judge." He grimaced. He raced up to his shop.

He stood in the doorway. The judge wasn't there, just that nasty beggar woman.

"Who are you?" He asked gruffly.

"Evil it is sir, the stink of evil from below, from her! She's the devil's wife, oh beware her sir, she with no pity in her heart! _Hey... don't I know you mister_"

"Mr. Todd?" The judge, not now, please not now! Sweeney had to time to think. He held the razor in his arm high and sliced the neck of the dirty woman. She stood there vacantly. He then stomped the pedal and she fell down onto Beadle's corpse. The judge ran in.

"Where is she?" He asked angrily.

"Below, my lord, with my neighbor. Thank heavens, that the sailor did not molest her. Thank heavens too; she has learned the errors of her ways."

"She… has?" The judge asked astounded, his lips curling up in a smile.

"Oh yes, your lesson was well learn. She speaks only of you, longing for forgiveness."

"Then she shall have it." The judge's expression turned to that of a snob. "She'll be here soon, you say?"

"Oh yes."

"Excellent, my friend!" He was overcome with joy… but not for long, thought Sweeney.

"How about a shave? Sit, sir, sit." The judge looked a little taken aback, but sat anyway.

"_Oh… pretty women_."

"_Pretty women, yes_."

"_Johanna, Johanna_."

"_Pretty women, pretty women are a wonder__, pretty women, what we do for pretty women. Blowing out their candles or combing out their hair. Even they leave they still are there, they're there_."

"How seldom it is one meets a fellow spirit."

"With fellow tastes, in women at least."

"What was that?" The judge looked uncomfortable. Good, thought Sweeney. It's about time to let him in on what's going on.

"The years no doubt have changed me sir, but then I reckon the face of a barber, and the face of a prisoner at the docs, is not particularly memorable." The judge stared into Sweeney's eyes. His mind seemed to wrap around the face of the man he destroyed so long ago.

"Benjamin Barker…"

"BENJAMIN BARKER!" He took the razor and stabbed, stabbed hard into the judge's throat. This is for the fifteen years in hell, for kidnapping my daughter, for reducing my wife until she was nothing! Sweeney twisted the razor, digging it deeper into the judge's neck. He felt the judge's blood spraying his own face, and he took pride in the slump of a man sitting there, in pain, in shock. He stared at the face of his destroyer before slicing his neck, stomping on the pedal, and watching him fall dead forever. Sweeney did it… he did it… he had his revenge, and he never imagined it would be so sweet. He stared longingly at the blood dripping down the blade of his razor.

"Rest now my friend, rest now forever. Sleep now the untroubled sleep of the angels." He stopped. He heard creaking. He turned to see the chest in which Pirelli's body lay, open. A pair of frightened eyes peeked out at him. He picked up his razor and proceeded to the chest. A young lad sat scared senseless.

"Come for a shave… have you lad?"

"No!" The voice whimpered for mercy.

"Come now, every lad needs a good shave." He lifted his razor to kill the witness, when Mrs. Lovett's scream echoed from below. There was no time to kill the boy! He raised his razor menacingly. "Forget my face." He said forcibly. Sweeney then started running towards the cellar.

"DIE!" He heard Mrs. Lovett yell, "DIE! GOD FOR SAKEN, DIE!" When he got downstairs she was dragging the judge's body towards her pie furnace.

"Why'd you scream?" He asked, angry for such nonsense. He could have killed that boy.

"He grabbed onto my dress, but don't worry, he's finished now."

"I'll take him. Open the door." Mrs. Lovett still dragged him. "I said, open the door!" He grabbed her arm and spun her around. She looked hurt by Sweeney's tone. Sweeney showed no regret. She opened the furnace door. Light shone down upon his victims. He looked down for a second, and then realized something… It made his heart pound fast, his mind race, the beggar woman… but no, it couldn't be. It couldn't be? He dropped down to his knees, brushing the long, matted hair off the woman's face. It was no longer the face of a beggar, but the face of his lost Lucy. Mrs. Lovett started to whimper.

"Don't I know you, she said. You knew she lived. You lied to me."

"_No, no, not lied at all. No I never lied_."

"_Lucy_…"

"_Said she took the poison, she did, never said that she died_…"

"_I've come home again_…"

"Poor _thing, she lived, but it left her weak in the head, all she did for months was just lie there in bed_-"

_"Lucy…"_

_"Should have been in hospital wound up in Bedlam instead, poor thing."_

_"Oh my god! Lucy, what have I done?"_

"_Better you should think she was dead, yes I lied 'cause I love you! I'd be twice the wife she was, I love you! Could that thing have cared for you like me_?" Sweeney got up and walked towards her, he tried to look happy, but it came out more as an evil leer. She started to back up towards the wall, fearful of this madman covered in blood.

"_Mrs. Lovett, you're a bloody wonder, eminently practical and yet appropriate as always! As you've said repeatedly, there's little point in dwelling on the past_!" He grabbed Mrs. Lovett's arms and swung her around. She leaned closer to him, and she beamed when their eyes met.

"_Do you mean it_?

"_No, come here my love_!"

"_Everything I did, I swear, I thought was for the best_."

"_Not a thing to fear my love! What's dead is dead_!"

"_Believe me, can we still be married_?"

"_The history of the world my pet_-"

"_Oh Mr. Todd, oh Mr. Todd, leave it to me_!"

"-_is learn forgiveness and try to forget_!"

"By the sea Mr. Todd, we'll be comfy cozy, by the sea Mr. Todd, where there's no one nosy!"

"_And life is for the alive my dear, so let's keep living it! Just keep living it! Really living it_!" His anger spilled out in a minute. It was because of her, Mrs. Lovett, that he didn't have his Lucy; she told him she was dead, and he had made up his mind. It all happened so fast, there they were dancing in the cellar; she was full of love and happiness, as he was full of hatred towards her. When they got near the furnace, in a swift movement, he picked her up and tossed her into the fire. Her red hair was the first thing to burn. She was screaming as he closed the door. There was a slot where he watched her burn to a crisp; his eyes glowed demonic in the fire. He shut the latch as her wails echoed through the room.

He approached Lucy's body, throwing his razor to the ground, sadness swelling throughout his whole body. Bending down, he lifted her head and held her close to him.

_"There was a barber and his wife… and she was beautiful…" _

The sewer grate opened. Tobias emerged from the hole, pulling himself out.

_"A foolish barber and his wife, she was his reason and his life, and she was beautiful…"_

Toby slowly stalked closer to Sweeney. He bent down and picked his barber razor off the ground.

_"And she was virtuous…"_

Sweeney had nothing. He never saw Johanna, he unknowingly killed his own wife, and his widowed neighbor… there he sat alone, him and the corpses of his victims. He wanted to die, just die…

_"And he was-"_

A shadow, Toby! He saw the glint of his own razor. He lifted his head, exposing his neck. Kill me, Toby. He thought, just do it, kill me now, kill me now. Hesitation. Sweeney frowned, and then felt his razor slice into his neck. Pain beyond belief, he heard his razor fall to the floor, and the footsteps of Toby walking away. He felt his cold blood dripping down his chest. He leaned forward, taking one last glimpse of his wife, covered in his blood but still beautiful, before he too, would be dead.


End file.
